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The need to feel loved and satiated was pressing against her chest causing her an almost physical pain. A little voice in her head told her that she was being unreasonable, that she was pushing her luck, that Georgia was her only friend and that she shouldn't risk their friendship for any man and so she promised to herself to listen to that voice and pack her things and leave the next morning.His footsteps warned her that he was coming in the living room and she braced herself for another fight."Morning", he said and he ran his hand through his black hair."Morning", she replied and she went in the kitchen to return with a mug filled with black coffee which she handed to him."I think I'm gonna miss all these as soon as you leave. Who's gonna bring me my coffee or cook every day?" Nobody", Angela answered. "I guess that you'll be back to pizza, beer and porn".James laughed and almost dropped his mug to the floor. "Your imagination is running wild. Do you think that I actually spend my. There are four truck service stations at that interstate exit Beth had pulled in to the one she said was the largest.I wanted to look over each one to see if someone might be watching her car.We drove my truck up to the interstate, it is only five miles.I eased through each station as if I was having a hard time making my mind up as to where to park.Nothing looked wrong in either one.There were empty parking spaces on both sides of her car. A tractor rig was blocking sight of her car from the other truck stops. If I pulled in on the passenger side of it the car could not be seen except from directly behind.I parked and got out, I had a good stretch as I looked around. I squatted down as if I were looking under my truck but I got a good look under Beth's car to.The set of keys were next to a tire on my side of the car. I had them in a second.I walked around as if stretching my legs then got back in the truck.When I handed Beth the keys I also gave her a small 38 revolver. I asked her.
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’ ‘Tough, this isn’t a charity house. Go find a soup kitchen or a flop house. Get out!’ The old man got clumsily to his feet and headed for the door. He knew there was a soup kitchen around there somewhere, but his drug softened brain wouldn’t tell him where. He stumbled out onto the sidewalk and started down the street. He only went two blocks when he recognized the soup kitchen and staggered inside. The evening meal was about to be served but first he had to listen to a sermon. After the sermon, he and all the other lost souls lined up at the serving line and got a ration of fresh food. He gulped his down quickly and then wandered over to the admin officer. ‘Sir, do you have a flop available?’ ‘Yeah, but you’ll have to do four hours work in the kitchen. Can you do it?’ ‘Yes, sir.’ ‘Report to the chief cook,’ he instructed and pointed to a door. The old man stumbled through the door. He was very tired, but he needed a place to rest. The chief cook assigned him to the garbage deck. .

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